Chapter one


"Hiro...!"
"Hiro...!"
"Hiro, wake up!"
I tried to open my eyes from the long night sleep I just
woke up from, but there was something that kept me from
doing so...
"Mom! Shut the light... for god's sake, how am I supposed to
be able to see anything like that?!" The burning in my eyes
vaguely disappeared as I realized that mom turned the lights
out.
"You got exactly five minutes to get up, today are your
final exams and you can't afford to be late!" Mom yelled at
me as I heard her walking away from my room.
I got up from my warm bad and noticed that I sweated during
my sleep. It was summer and I remembered having some
nightmare... Damn final exams...
I put on my school uniform, a blue T-shirt with the eight
"Arts" printed on it and a pair of long black pants.
As I looked at the mirror in my room, I noticed that all my
short brown hair is messed up from the long sleep` lucky I
have spiky hair anyway so no more than two minutes of
brushing it can do the job.
"Hiro! You're going to be late!" my mom screamed at me from
the kitchen.
"Coming right up, ma!"
I walked past my brother's room which door was closed as
always (my brother is almost never home) and into the
kitchen where my mom was making breakfast. As I walked in, I
saw dad rushing to the door.
"Did you take your lunch?" Mom asked dad, but I doubt if he
even noticed.
"Late again, dad?" I asked.
"Don't worry, I always make it in time."
Mom patiently asked again, "Sen, did you take your lunch?"
"Of course I did!" he yelled at mom as he was rushing
towards the door, looking at the mirror one last time to
ensure that he's all tidy and clean and walked out the door.
A few seconds later I could hear him starting the car and
driving away.
"Always the same story with him", Mom quietly whispered to
herself.
My mom is a calm woman, taller then my dad, with long,
silky, brown hair and green eyes (just like me and my
brother).
Unlike my mom, dad is a whole different story... He was born
in Japan 53 years ago, a few years before my mom. He had
short, black, straight hair, brown eyes, always tidy and
organized; just the opposite of my mom. He is a serious,
inpatient and a very angry person.
I don't know how my parents get along so well together but I
guess it's true what they say - opposites attract each
other.
"What are you thinking about so much, Hiro? You need to
finish your breakfast and go to school."
"Don't worry, I'll get there in time..."
I finished my breakfast as fast as I could and went back to
my room to get ready for school.
I brushed my hair and teeth, put on my shoes and I was
almost ready to go.
Hmm, what else do I need?
Today are the final exams, I'll need all my battle
equipment...
I'll take my favorite weapon, the katana, and tie it on my
back. A few knives in case I'll need them, two or three
smoke bombs and last but not least, my cool NY "Jets" hat.
Well, I'm all ready to go, I guess... Hope I didn't forget
anything.
I went through the kitchen to the front door and yelled to
my mom on the way out, "Later ma!"
"Good luck, honey!" she screamed back with a little
excitement in her voice.
"Don't need luck! It's me, remember?"
I closed the door behind me and started walking to school.
I live in NY; not many "Arts" school here anymore, only two
left in the entire city... my parents told me that fifty
years ago there were at least fifty schools here in the
city, but then the modern age came and people started to
prefer using guns which can easily kill a man by just
pulling a trigger rather than learning for years how to
control and manipulate the things around us using "Arts".
In spite of all that, my dad and mom are both coming from
families that use the "Arts" for ages, and as a result, both
are working at Zao's, which is the "Arts" main organization
here in the U.S.
Of course, there are people who use the "Arts" outside Zao,
but they are considered criminals and Zao is trying to stop
them all the time.
Another major problem is that now, in the modern world,
people are disrespecting the "Arts" and think of people who
use it as bums, who only learn it as tradition but will
never use it in the "real" world anyway.
When I got to school I saw a lot of students practicing
their skills in the schoolyard (some first-year students
were watching and cheering every time they saw something
they thought was cool), while others were reading the
theoretical books for the written exam.
As I passed all the other students and entered the main
building where the written exam will take place, I searched
for my best friend Joe.
Joe and me were friends as long as I can remember. We
studied at the Zao's elementary school on the same class all
the years.
I heard a voice from behind me: "Hey Hiro".
I looked around and saw Joe standing there with his staff
tied behind his back (Joe's favorite weapon is the long
staff).
Joe is a little taller then I am, although he is much
skinnier... he has short, blonde hair and brown eyes; also,
he is black.
"Hey Joe! Sup? Are you ready for the exams?"
"Of course I am, I'm gonna ace them as usual!" he said,
excited.
"Don't be so sure of yourself there, Drop! I've heard that
the practical exam this year is going to be extra
difficult," I said with a slight smile.
"Who told you that, Crispy?" (Joe and I have nicknames for
each other, he calls me Crispy because my favorite "Art" is
Fire, and I call him Drop because his favorite "Art" is
water).
"Don't you remember? Last year the exams were so easy that
almost everyone passed... The Zao's exam committee was
warned that if something like that ever happens again, they
would all get fired. So I'm sure that this year the exam is
going to be super hard."
Joe suddenly became a little pale (as pale as he can get
anyway).
"What happened, Drop? Didn't study hard enough?"
"Maybe a little... But don't worry, I'll ace it anyway", Joe
said and he looked a little better.
"I'm sure you will, mate", I said in a cheering tone. Joe
always succeeds in what he does... He is one of the best
students in school and his skills in water "Arts" are
amazing.
The bell rang just as I said the last sentence and we both
hurried to our class.
The first exam is the written one; I know the material
pretty well so I'm sure I'll get a good score in it.
All of the students set in their chairs and Mr. Ross, our
theoretical teacher, slowly walked into class and waited for
silence.
Mr. Ross is a tall skinny man with short black hair. He
always stands upright and has a serious look on his face.
Everyone is nervous, so it didn't take us long to stop
talking.
Mr. Ross stared at each and every one of us and started
talking slowly with his low tune: "First of all, I would
like to remind you that these tests will determine, along
with the practical exams, what will your future be and to
which "Art" academy you will be able to get in to, so don't
take them lightly."
"Second, I hope it is needless to remind you that if you
would get caught cheating, you will get disqualified from
the exams and will never be able to take them again."
"The instructions for the exam are the following: you have
exactly 150 minutes to finish the exam. The exam includes
four-choice questions in which you will have to circle one
correct answer."
"Last, I wish you all the best of luck!"
Mr. Ross distributed the exams to each of us and set by the
teacher's desk.
"You may begin."